


endless looping letters

by gayrightsalec



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Stuttering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:42:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23017207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayrightsalec/pseuds/gayrightsalec
Summary: Alec has a spectacularly bad day, and his nerves and tangled words get too much for his planned date with Paul.
Relationships: Paul Coates & Alec Hardy, Paul Coates/Alec Hardy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 65





	endless looping letters

**Author's Note:**

> i have been persuaded to finally post on ao3. this is my first time posting here and i'm on mobile so sorry for any technical errors.
> 
> shoutout to zeph & kaz for helping and inspiring me.

Alec’s shoulders slumped as he stepped through his front door. He had been at work, and it had been an excruciatingly long day. Tight nerves from the day unwound into anger, and he tossed his bag down in the hall with a dramatic sigh.

All day, Miller had been getting on at him about suspects who needed bringing in and statements that needed to be taken, but he couldn’t do it. Not today. He had assigned himself to paperwork duties, because he couldn’t trust himself to talk. Today, the words got stuck, ticking over in his head but not actually being said. Bad days brought on a stutter, anxiety betraying his already lacking speech patterns. Usually at work, he didn’t do that. He would throw himself into it, become completely focused, and the stutter would not rear its ugly head. It was like a switch that automatically turned itself off, he never understood why, but was very glad of it. So why today? Why had it fucking come along today?

With another sigh, he pulled off his tie and threw it on the kitchen counter next to his keys. At least here, he didn’t have to speak to anyone, didn’t have to embarrass himself like that. As he flicked on the kettle for a cup of tea, he began to dwell on the burning residual embarrassment in his gut.

He hated the stutter. He hated everything about it - hated the way people looked at him with pity, mimicked him, made jokes, finished his sentences for him, didn’t take him seriously. Most of all he hated himself for not just taking control, not just getting it right. Endless looping letters burnt a hole in his throat, and some days he vowed to never fucking speak again. Of course, he still would speak again, ten minutes later he’d spew some shameful sentence and berate himself for it afterwards. He always did that. And he despised it.

Alec had only had to speak to a few people today, and he made sure the conversations were absolutely necessary. Miller had looked at him strangely when he’d spoken to her in the morning, and again at lunch. She’d heard him stutter before, but never at work. Alec worried that she was inching closer to the “are you okay?” line, so he made sure to hastily end their discussion for the day. Another person he had spoken to was a suspect, and Alec’s lip curled remembering it. The guy had scoffed when Hardy stuttered, raising his eyebrows as if to question Hardy’s authority. Alec had steeled his face, tightened his grip on the man’s arm as he led him through for questioning, and internally dissected the entire exchange.

The events of the day were still ticking through his mind when he remembered he had a date due tonight, with Paul. A groan escaped him as he realised, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. There was absolutely no way he could attend a meal tonight, and he couldn’t face Paul either. Paul would probably be nice, concerned even, and Alec couldn’t handle that. His broken speech patterns were irritating, he knew it, and he did not want to subject Paul to that. Definitely not - Paul wouldn’t find out about this particular flaw. Alec picked up his phone, and tea, and headed through into his bedroom.

When he sat on the edge of his bed, he tried to decide on a good enough excuse for Paul. He couldn’t call him - not with the way he was acting today, so instead he tried to construct a message.

_Hey Paul. Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. We should rearrange for another time. I’d like that. Sorry againe.  
Alec_

He hit send after reading it through twice. He wasn’t one for texting, and it clearly showed. A thick layer of guilt settled in his stomach, and he tossed his phone onto his bedside table. Why was he like this? Why did he let anxiety get in the way of not only his plans, but also his speech? He felt ridiculous. Sounded it, too, but at least he didn’t have to talk to anyone here. _Thank God._ He pressed his fingers to his eyes and leaned backwards, resigning himself to stupidly attempting to sleep it off.

\--

Paul’s phone went off as he washed dishes, and he dried his hands, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it to Alec’s message cancelling their date tonight. Paul’s heart dropped slightly - he had been looking forward to it for a while, but he knew that Alec must have had a good reason. Maybe he was caught up at work, or ill, or something. His message had been rather vague, Paul thought to himself, as he typed out a response.

_Hey love. Don’t worry, that’s alright, i’ll see you another time. Is everything okay?_

He sent it and placed his phone down to await a response, returning to his cleaning. After ten minutes, he itched to send another text, but ignored the urge. He attempted to figure out what to do with his evening now that he didn’t have plans, and decided on seeing what food he had in for dinner. It wasn’t much, and he returned to his phone. Still no response. Nerves rising, he sent another message. He knew Alec was most definitely fine, and that he was being ridiculous messaging twice, but he couldn’t help himself.

After another twenty minutes, Alec still hadn’t replied to either of Paul’s messages. It had only been an hour, but Paul couldn’t stop thinking about it. Alec never usually ignored text messages, in fact he often replied surprisingly quickly with very to-the-point answers, which is why Paul worried. Paul knew that Alec hated texting, could almost hear his very Scottish angry rants about it, and decided to give him a call. Just to make sure.

He didn’t pick up on the first call, or the second.

Or the third, an hour later. Nor did he respond to the four consecutive text messages that Paul definitely regretted but couldn’t stop himself from sending. He was now well and truly worried for Alec.

\--

Alec had been laid in the dark for a long, long time. His tea had gone cold and he had fallen asleep at some point - his phone sat untouched, and on silent.  
He knew he should get up, eat something - he had avoided the work kitchen all day for fear of conversation. But he didn’t particularly want to get up. He could’ve been tucking into a meal with Paul right now, but instead he had let his cowardice get the best of him again.

Alec’s train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door. It surprised him, someone turning up at 8pm, and with a grumble he headed towards the door. He was halfway through an internal rant about ‘bloody cold callers coming round at this time’, when he swung the door open and came face to face with Paul Coates. Paul? _Paul?_

“Oh thank God for that!” Paul exclaimed, before Alec even had a chance to process his arrival. Paul? Here, now. Today?

“Uh, shit, hello?” Alec answered, wonderfully eloquent as usual, voice gruff from sleeping. He stared across at Paul, still inwardly panicking about him turning up. Here. Now. Today, of all days. “Uh, everything alright?” He asked, not meaning to sound rude but with no ability to elaborate. Paul’s shoulders slumped in relief.

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine, sorry - I, you didn’t answer, I called. And I panicked, sorry- I can leave.” Paul replied, taking a step away from the door. Alec shook his head, opened the door wider and took a step back, inviting Paul in. Paul seemed surprised, his mouth open slightly in shock.

“No, Alec- I’m sorry, I’ll go, I don’t mean to intrude. If you aren’t well I’d best go, let you rest-” Alec gave him a questioning look at this, and Paul continued to ramble. “The date? I assume you cancelled because you feel ill or something so I should leave you to rest. Shouldn’t have ever come in the first place, I’m being ridiculous-” He was running himself in circles, stumbling through his sentences apologetically. Alec simply gestured back into his house, inviting him in. “C’mon,” He said softly, before turning and making his way through to the living room, assuming Paul would follow.

Paul did follow, albeit nervously, and shut the door behind himself. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to take his shoes off or not, or why he was here, or why Alec had invited him in, or why Alec hadn’t said more than a sentence to him since he arrived. It made his head spin.

“Again, I’m sorry, Alec. You can send me away, I was just freaking out, being ridiculous- thought you’d got yourself hurt in the line of duty or some shit- You’re okay?” Paul fumbled his way through another sentence, twisting his own hands together anxiously. Alec just nodded, with a small smile. That wasn’t enough, why wasn’t he talking? Was he mad? Paul wondered, his pulse thundering.

“Um, are you- this sounds so stupid. Are you angry? Please say something, you’ve hardly said anything-”

“... Tea?” Hardy said, eyes trained on Paul’s. Paul seemed to stop in his tracks.

“What?” He asked, suddenly quiet. Alec smiled again.

“Tea?” the other man repeated himself, this time gesturing to the kettle. Paul’s face lit up with recognition. “Oh! Tea. Uh, yes please?” He finally responded, still just as awkward. He rocked back on his heels as Hardy boiled the kettle, no idea where to put his hands or what to say or what to think about the situation.

\--

Alec seemed calm. At least, he hoped he did. He was trying his best. Paul was blundering his way through apologies and Alec wanted nothing more than to take his hands and reassure him that it was okay, that Alec didn’t mind. Except, Alec couldn’t do that, because if he spoke more than a few words his secret would be out. He didn’t know how to handle this situation. How to tell Paul that everything is okay, that he isn’t angry or ill or hurt, there’s nothing to be anxious about. That he actually had to cancel the date because of a stupid, stupid reason, that Alec had just been careless enough to leave his phone on silent, that he was so, so sorry. He needed to tell Paul all of this, but he didn’t know how. Not without his voice betraying him. So he made tea.

Mint tea, Paul’s favourite, in his favourite mug of Alec’s. Alec just hoped that the other man understood the sentiment. As he pushed the mug over to Paul, he watched the realisation dawn on the other man and a smile spread across his face. Paul returned the smile, clutching the mug in both of his hands. He looked small, cozy, and nervous, and Alec truly wanted nothing more than to just explain himself to Paul. But he couldn’t. He knew if he started talking, he probably wouldn’t stop, and he’d fill all of the empty space with his stuttering. Paul would pity him, feel overwhelmed but obligated to stay, and it would be Alec’s fault. So he resigns to staying silent.

They wandered through to the living room and sat down on opposite ends of the sofa. Alec began to think further of the consequences of speaking, while Paul rubbed the paint of the mug with his thumb. He stared into the tea like it was going to reach out and bite him, and his knee bounced involuntarily. Alec watched, but he wasn’t really paying attention, moreso thinking about how to form a decent enough few sentences to reassure Paul. He was about to at least say something, when Paul beat him to it.

“Look- I should go. You must be tired. I appreciate the tea but I’ll leave you to it, I’m so sorry for coming around uninvited,” he blurted out, still staring directly into his tea. He stood abruptly, placing his mug down on the table and wringing his hands together. His eyes did not meet Alec’s.

“No, no. Paul. Please s-s- ugh. Don’t go,” Alec responded, placing his own mug down. This was not what he had prepared to say. “I’m glad. That y- y-” He paused, gathering his thoughts. He was stuttering, could hear it, and could see Paul’s slightly worried expression. “you came over. I ap- appreciate it.” God, it sounded even more pathetic than he remembered. He squeezed his eyes shut, calm facade slipping. He wasn’t prepared for Paul to pity him, or make fun of him, or - leave him.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll stay” Paul said, shakily sitting back down. Alec sat with his head in his hands, rubbing them across his eyes. “I’m-I’m sorry,” he said, clear edge to his voice. Paul shifted closer to him on the sofa. “I can’t- can’t, today. Talking.. ‘s hard. I don’t hate you.” he spoke into his hands, but Paul understood the sentiment. He brought a hand up to rub Alec’s back, and Alec felt tense.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind” He stated, rubbing gently up and down Alec’s back. Slowly, the tension began to leave other man’s muscles. “Rough day?” Paul asked, glancing across to Alec. Alec slowly lifted his head in delayed surprise at Paul’s understanding tone. Alec met Paul’s eyes and they were knowing, comforting. He nodded. He felt so childish, communicating like this, but he just couldn’t talk anymore. Shame bubbled in his chest like a rising tide.

“Y’don’t have to talk. If you don’t want to. We can just sit here - the tea is good.” Paul’s voice was soft and he smiled at Alec. Alec didn’t exactly know how to respond, having never received this reaction, and for a terrifying second he thought he might start to cry. He didn’t, resorted to just nodding, before staring at his own hands. He wished he was reacting differently, if he just fucking spoke and acted normally this would all be fine, but it isn’t because he’s being childish.

Alec swallowed, his head filling with thoughts of how much he hated this - hated himself. Eventually, Paul began to speak again. “I don’t know if this is what you want to hear, but- I understand. Sometimes when i’m really- y’know- bad days. Sometimes I stumble over words and letters and things and oh, it’s a right mess!” He said with a chuckle, and Alec let out a small snort of laughter. “I know it’s not the same but, I just want you to know, I understand. I don’t think you’re being ridiculous.”

Alec smiled at Paul, who was perched awkwardly on the sofa. For the first time, someone had stuck around and actually heard him out - no matter how little he had actually managed to say. Paul’s face showed only warmth and love, and it gave Alec a chance to take in what he had said. He understands. He gets it.

By this point, Paul had stopped rubbing Alec’s back. Instead, his hand moved down until he found Alec’s and he held it, calmly rubbing his thumb back and forth. Alec slowly relaxed, almost hypnotised by the movement. Eventually, he leaned against Paul’s shoulder. Paul in turn leaned backwards, against the arm of the sofa, and brought Alec with him. Alec shifted slightly, molding his way in like a cat, before resting his head on Paul’s chest.

“Thank you,” He said after a few moments, voice quiet. He still couldn’t quite believe himself, acting like this around Paul, but Paul’s embrace was so tempting and listening to his heart was so relaxing. He felt loved. Paul squeezed his arm and pressed a kiss to his head. “Anytime,” he said, and Alec had to shut his eyes to not let a tear fall. Anytime.


End file.
